Saturday Morning Repairs
by a. loquita
Summary: SJ Sam comes over on a Saturday to do some repairs for O'Neill and it leads to What're we doing?


Saturday Morning Repairs

Author: a. loquita

Summary: S/J- Sam comes over on a Saturday to do some repairs for O'Neill and it leads to "What're we doing?"

Rating: T

I am waiting on the porch, sipping a warm beer when she pulls up, my Major. She gets out of the car, all legs and big blue eyes, and gives me a small smile. The kind where I don't get to see teeth, but an average Carter smile is still a hundred times better than a huge grin on anyone else.

I complained yesterday at the SGC that my refrigerator was on the fritz and how in the heck is a guy supposed to live on warm beer and rotten eggs? Until Carter offered to stop by and see if she could fix it for me before I waited weeks for Mr. Matag to show up. Why she wants to spend a Saturday morning tinkering with a chunk of metal is only one item in a vast inventory of ways that she and I are complete opposites.

Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't want Carter to be any other way. Half the time, I'm proud and amazed by her brilliance. The other half of the time, I'm jealous of whatever piece of technology that her long, slender fingers are taking apart and putting back together again. What I wouldn't give to be her Humpty Dumpty.

"Morning, Sir." She says cheerfully as she approaches.

"Carter." I tip my head.

Her eyes flicker down to my beer and back to my face. Yeah, so it's only 1100. It's five o'clock somewhere, right?

"Want one?" I ask, even though I know she'll shake her head no. "Coffee then?"

"Sure."

Carter follows me into my house and into the kitchen. I really thought about cleaning up for her. I thought about it and then shrugged my shoulders. She's seen my messiness before, it's not really gonna shock her. Plus, I've seen how her lab gets, so touché.

I start making the coffee while she immediately begins assessing the fridge. I pulled it out from the wall before she got here, and now she's behind it, prodding and hemming and hawing.

"Fascinating?" I ask, mocking her just a little.

Carter knows it, and her head appears around the refrigerator for an instant giving me a look accompanied by an ever so slight curve of her lips. Why does she do that, fight those smiles off? Does she have any idea how hard I work to be granted a full Carter smile? Some days I've made a living at it.

Over the next 45 minutes she takes apart various panels and pieces of my fridge. They are lying on the floor. I assume ordered and neat by some Sam Carter logic, but to me it looks like chaos.

I keep refilling her coffee and mostly just hang around nearby watching. Trying not to look at her body inappropriately.

"One of the wires came loose on the overload protector." Carter finally diagnoses.

"Ah. Of course. Should have seen that one coming."

"Sir?" She doesn't even look up from where she's sitting Indian style on my kitchen floor working. "Do you have any idea what an overload protector does?"

"It protects things. Like my beer staying cold." That wins me a slightly bigger smile.

She uses needle-nose pliers to tighten something, and then places the panel over the open hole in the back of my fridge. "Could you hold this for me while I screw it back in?"

I fight the urge to acknowledge the double entendre and cross to her. I lean over her, holding the panel in place while she works.

This close I can smell her shampoo and soap. I would know Carter's scent anytime, anywhere, for the rest of my life. It's not too girly, overwhelming with musk or something that comes on too strong. No, just like her, it's soft and subtle and soothing.

In short order she's got all the bits and pieces put back together again and none left over. She plugs the refrigerator back in and it begins humming nicely. My Carter, more capable than all the king's horses and all the king's men.

I lift an eyebrow at her, "Sweet."

"No problem, Sir."

We push it back into place against the wall and she heads to the sink to wash her hands.

"Lunch?" I ask brightly. Maybe a little too brightly. But I don't want her to leave just yet. "It's the least I can do."

"Sounds nice." She says, turning now away from the sink just as I was headed to the drawer of takeout menus. We brush close. My body bumps hers, pushing her back into the edge of the counter.

"Sorry, Carter." I say, while putting my hands on her upper arms, just in case she needs steadying.

My hands on her, our bodies pressed up close. This is dangerous. This is breaking rules. This is oh, so, very, very nice.

We both freeze. There's a moment of tension between us. There are no words, there doesn't have to be, we both just know that this has always been there.

For me to have it bad for a gorgeous blonde with a hot, curvy body is extremely understandable. Throw in that I respect her and adore her, and I'm a goner. But why she, who could have any man drooling and following her every command willingly, wants me… I haven't a clue how that makes any sense at all. And here I thought she was the most sensible, logical person on the planet.

We don't ever talk about it, and we're good, well-behaved little soldiers. Really we are. Only twice have we slipped. Both times were ever so slightly, and both times one of us has halted things before it went too far. We slipped enough that I know the softness of her skin, but not enough to know the feel of her lips on mine.

Until now, when she brushes mine fleetingly. I can sense her nerves. We're not supposed to do this, even a chaste kiss. Not only because that itself is wrong, but where the kiss will very quickly spiral to is even more wrong. It's my cue, I'm supposed to back off, back away and change the subject. This should be nothing more than slip-up number three on the list that only Carter and I know exists.

But I don't want to back off. If this is a slip, I _sooo _want to make it worth it. I circle Carter's waist with my arms, locking her in and then kiss her harder, needy, like a thirsty man that only can be quenched by her. Her hands are under my shirt, I realize suddenly, and she's clawing at my back.

I lift her to sit on the counter. Her legs wrap around my waist and draw me in close. My erection against her white hot heat, save for only a few layers of cloth between us, drives me mad.

I kiss down her neck and it causes a moan to rumble from the back of her throat. It's primal and sexy, and all I want is to make her do it again. Carter likes kisses on her neck, gets filed away for future application.

All of the sudden she stops, pulls back slightly, and I can see the dizzy desire in her eyes and her lips swollen from my kisses. Oops.

"Damn it," I say. Not exactly elegant, but pretty much sums it up right.

Carter takes a deep breath and drops her head to my shoulder. "I second that."

"What're we doing?"

"What comes naturally." She sounds so forlorn. "Unfortunately." It makes my heart ache. I never, ever want to hurt her. But I'm pretty sure I just did.

"I'm so sorry, Carter, I–"

"Stop it. Don't apologize. It was both of us."

I start to back away from her but she doesn't release her legs totally. Enough distance that we're no longer touching so intimately but not enough to let me go.

"Just one more minute?" she asks. "Please, just give me a moment to stay like this before..."

I, of course, can deny her nothing. Especially when she asks in that sweet, small voice. We hold each other, her head stays on my shoulder and she just breathes.

After a while Carter says, "This is nice. I mean the other stuff is nice too, but this." She lifts her head and I see tears in her eyes now. "Not having this with you, it kills me sometimes."

I assume she's talking about the hugging part, just being close to someone. I know what she means, I feel lonely most of the time too. But the thought of being with another woman in order to feel less lonely just seems wrong.

"We can hug, Carter, anytime you want to. I'm pretty sure that's allowed and if it helps, hey." I give her a smile. One I hope is nice and inviting, not horny guy on the prowl looking for anything he can get. "Why not?"

"What's your policy on snuggling?" She's teasing me now, I can tell. But I'm willing to bet she really does want me to answer.

"Pretty much just extended hugging."

"Ah." She says, moving her legs and allowing me to step away. "Good to know."

There's a long pause between us. Finally she pushes herself off the counter and says, "I should go."

"Wait," I move over to the take-out menu drawer, open it, and grab a bunch. I hold them up for her to see. "Lunch, I believe was the plan before we…ah, got sidetracked."

She gives me a look, as if she's considering whether "sidetracked" was really the right word for it. Then she says, "Sure. Lunch sounds good."

After I order over the phone, I turn. She's fidgeting with a tool in her hand, absent-mindedly. I just know that she's still thinking about it. She's probably filled with guilt, blaming herself for allowing any imperfection to show through.

"Carter, let it go."

Her eyes snap up to mine. "Sir?"

"It never happened, forget about it. Stop beating yourself up."

Her eyes stay on mine, analyzing. "I don't want to." She looks down. "Forget about it, that is. I just…"

I wait. I know she'll say it eventually if I give her a moment. Whatever it is, it's clearly tough for her to admit. I know her well enough to recognize that means it's something she views as a weakness in herself.

"Sir, I just need to know one thing."

"Go ahead."

She looks up again. My Carter, always taking on the world head held high. She takes a breath. "That all this waiting will pay off one day. That there's a 'someday' for us."

"There is." After a pause filled with self-doubt on my part, I add, "If you want there to be."

I watch relief flood her features, and then I'm finally granted the Carter grin I've been waiting all morning for.

She really has no idea how much I care for her– love her actually. I hope that she knows it's not just lust. Well, OK, not _only_ lust that I feel for her. But I can't tell her, not yet. If I say it out loud it can't be taken back and we can't keep working together. It has to be postponed like all the rest. For now, I'm just going to have to trust that she gets at least enough of it.

"Com're," I say.

She walks into my waiting arms. I hug her tight, knowing that this will have to get us through for the time being. Until someday.


End file.
